


shaky when i came to be

by apollothyme



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, First Meetings, High key fluff, M/M, Nosebleed, low key anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9096460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollothyme/pseuds/apollothyme
Summary: He goes for another triple axel just as his breath is about to run out again, only this time something is wrong. He knows it as soon as he jumps into the air, but by then there’s nothing he can do.
His body moves almost by itself, sluggish and mechanic. Driven to the point of exhaustion, Yuuri can’t pull himself in anything fast enough; he can never do anything fast enough. His left foot falls first, too hard to stand upright. Before he’s got the chance to hold himself steady, he feels something snap, loud and clear in the air, this resounding crack that could just as well be a bolt of thunder. Yuuri’s ankle gives in, pushing to the right as the rest of his foot moves inwards towards the left.
 
  (an AU where Victor became a doctor instead of going into figure skating and Yuuri is a lucky patient)





	

Yuuri’s skating is like him, a bundle of energy and anxiety about to explode. He twists and turns in sudden movements, never letting any curve be finished, any move completed. He constantly goes faster and faster until he can’t breathe, until there’s a force on his ribcage so powerful that his chest can’t expand and his vision begins to whiten and just when he’s reaching his very limit, Yuuri throws himself into another jump, going for a triple axel that he lands nearly perfectly.

Only then does he stop, but as soon as he gets his breath back he’s moving again, throwing himself recklessly into his skating, wanting to go so fast that he disappears, crumbles into dust and becomes one with the ice. 

He’s not himself. He doesn’t feel like himself. Normal Yuuri is never so thoughtless, but tonight, he doesn’t want to be his normal self. Tonight he just wants to forget all the weight on his shoulders, all the pressure. Exams are coming up as well as the final stages of competitions. Yuuri doesn’t think he’s ready. He never thinks he’s ready.

Tonight he skates alone. If his coach was there he’d never let him be so desperate and wild. But Yuuri is alone and so he skates.

He goes for another triple axel just as his breath is about to run out again, only this time something is wrong. He knows it as soon as he jumps into the air, but by then there’s nothing he can do. His body moves almost by itself, sluggish and mechanic. Driven to the point of exhaustion, Yuuri can’t pull himself in anything fast enough; he can never do anything fast enough. His left foot falls first, too hard to stand upright. Before he’s got the chance to hold himself steady, he feels something snap, loud and clear in the air, this resounding crack that could just as well be a bolt of thunder. Yuuri’s ankle gives in, pushing to the right as the rest of his foot moves inwards towards the left. 

His ankle is the first part of him to touch the ice, carrying all the weight of his body for one nauseating, blinding second before the rest of Yuuri’s body comes crashing down. First his hands, then his legs and by the end even his head has found its way onto the ice, hitting the cold surface with a low, shallow _thud_ sound that just about sums up Yuuri’s entire existence.

Afterwards, minutes trickle by as Yuuri tries to gather up his strength to move off the ice. His chest can expand and compress freely now that he has lost his momentum, but his vision is still swimming around. He’s lightheaded and there isn’t enough air in his lungs yet. The pain in his ankle is rather dull for now, but he knows that the second he puts weight on his foot the sharp ache of a twisted ankle is going to back to kick him in the ass.

Still, Yuuri doesn’t have a choice, unless he tries to hibernate in the rink and stay there until the cleaners find him in the morning, which sounds kind of appealing, but it also might get him killed so, maybe not.

He gets the ice skates off as soon as he’s crawled onto the steady floor, but the tears only start flowing after he’s made his way out of the building. He’s just standing outside, his backpack strapped on one shoulder, ice skates hanging limply in one hand and his ankle doesn’t even hurt too bad, not while he leans on his other foot, but Yuuri can’t stop crying. They’re these big, fat tears that threaten to choke him. He has to hiccup for air a bunch of times before he calms down and he feels like himself again.

There’s no one in the street, unsurprising considering the hour, so Yuuri gets a cab to take him to the hospital.

The taxi driver doesn’t talk to him, so Yuuri doesn’t say anything either. The further way he gets from the ice rink, the more his embarrassment grows. He can’t believe he twisted his ankle while skating alone at night in a deserted rink. Celestino is going to kill him — except not really, because his coach is never like that — but he’s definitely going to be exasperated with him, possibly disappointed. And then Yuuri will definitely die.

As he’s about to enter the hospital, Yuuri pulls out his phone and texts Phichit so his roommate knows where he is.

hey! I think accidentally twisted my ankle while skating. i'm at the hospital now, will be back late :’<

The waiting area at the emergency section is about 1/3rd full, which still seems like too many people for 3 a.m. on a Tuesday evening, but something in Yuuri’s — probably pitiful expression — must resonate with the people reception desk, because not a few seconds later he’s being called in by a tall nurse with blonde hair and a wide grin

“Hi there, darling. You can come with me. We’re going to do an X-Ray first and then the doctor is going to take a look at the results and see your ankle, alright?” the nurse says, ending the question with a clear wink in Yuuri’s direction.

“Y-yes, that’s fine,” Yuuri says, stumbling over the words like a fish out of water. He’s never responded well to people flirting with him, although he’s quite sure this nurse is just doing it to be nice.

“Take off your shoe and hop onto the stretcher there,” the nurse tells him, watching carefully as Yuuri bends down and pulls off his sneaker. He had barely tied it when he’d left the rink and he’s not even wearing socks, but the tug is still enough to make him — and his nurse — wince. “Quite a nasty bruise you’ve got there, darling. How did it you get it?”

“Skating,” Yuuri tells him.

The nurse’s eyebrows slowly climb up his forehead. “In the middle of the night?”

“Yeah. I do that sometimes,” Yuuri replies as his blood starts soaring to his cheeks, slowly but steady filling them with a toasty pink shade.

His nurse snorts like he doesn’t believe him at all, but before he gets the chance to say anything, a tech in the room next door calls for him. “Nurse Giacometti, we’re ready.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Nurse Giacometti replies but he’s out the room before his last word has even left his mouth.

Yuuri lays as still as possible as a large machine above his foot makes a small beeping noise. He moves his foot to the side when Nurse Giacometti pops his head back in the room and asks him to do so. Then Yuuri’s done and the only thing left to do is put his sneaker back on, only his foot has considerably swollen since he’d left the ice rink and Yuuri’s pretty sure his shoe no longer fits.

“Wait a second, babe. I’m going to get you a loose sock and a pack of ice so you don’t have to put that shoe back on.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, repeating the words when the nurse comes back with the promised items. 

Having the ice on his skin grounds him and Yuuri is back to feeling like himself when he’s led into the waiting room again and Phichit calls his phone.

“Yuuri!” he shouts the second Yuuri picks up, making sure everyone in half a mile radius can hear him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just a twisted an—“

Phichit steamrolls right over him. “I’m gonna come to the hospital!”

“What? No, wait, there’s no need.”

“Of course there is, you are the hospital, alone, probably crying—“

“I’m not crying. I’ve already cried. I’m really not that hurt.”

“I’m already out the door. Just hang on tight, Yuuri. I’ll be there as soon as possible!”

“Phichit,” Yuuri says as his blood rushes to his cheeks again. He doesn’t know what to say. Truth be told, he doesn’t want to be alone; nobody wants to be alone in a hospital, but he also doesn’t want to bother his only real friend in America.

“You’d do the same thing for me!” Phichit shouts right before he hangs up.

Yuuri sighs and shakes his head, hiding his face behind his hand for a second as a smile stretches over his lips. He definitely would do the same for Phichit.

After that there’s nothing to do but play games on his phone until his doctor calls him in. He’s on his way to beat a particularly difficult Angry Birds level when an accented voice calls his name through the speakers and Yuuri makes the slow walk to the right office. 

He knocks on the door and waits for an answer, entering the room a few seconds later when no one replies. “Hello?” he asks. There’s no one inside the doctor’s office, but Yuuri’s sure he’s got the right one, so he stumbles his way inside and is about to plop down on one of the chairs when he hears the door open and someone come in.

“Hello, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. A kid in the pediatric section busted his knee and I was called in to help,” says Yuuri’s doctor, who just so happens to be the most handsome, gorgeous, stunning man Yuuri has ever seen. “I’m Doctor Nikiforov and you must be Katsuki Yuuri.”

Yuuri opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He’s genuinely speechless. He’s never— he doesn’t even— he wasn’t even sure he was into guys before this very moment, but now this man is standing in front of him with a small, confused smile and an extended hand and Yuuri is literally speechless.

This is the exact moment when Yuuri’s body decides to play a trick on him for all the abuse Yuuri has put him through and gives him a nosebleed.

“Huh,” Yuuri says, as eloquent as a snail or some other animal lacking proper brain-to-mouth functions. 

“Oh, crap,” his doctor says, rushing to his desk to give Yuuri a pack of tissues.

On second thought, now’s the moment to stop the idea of Yuuri being speechless because his doctor is just _that_ damn handsome and consider other options.

“I think I might have hit my head? When I fell and twisted my ankle?” Yuuri says, there’s blood in his mouth, there’s blood all over his face and the most handsome man in the world is looking at him like he’s a dumb puppy who bit its own tail.

“I think that’s likely, yes. Have you gotten a CT scan done yet?”

Yuuri sighs. It’s back to the waiting room for him, it seems. “No,” he confesses.

His doctor stares at him, tapping the side of his face with his index finger as he thinks. 

“Well, let’s take a look at your ankle first and then I’ll go with you to do the CT scan. That way you won’t have to wait for the results.”

“You can do that?” Yuuri asks, the words slipping out of his mouth before he has had time to consider them. Of course, that’s the exact moment when his anxiety kicks in the full bucket and has in running on overdrive again. “I mean, I’m not implying that you’re not qualified, I would never— I have never—“

His doctor’s full, rich laughter cuts off his rambling. “I know I’m young, but I can guarantee you that I’m a qualified doctor with a nice diploma from Stanford that can prove it. I can show it to you, if you’d like.”

“No, no, please. That’s fine, I’m sorry—“

“I’m joking, Yuuri,” his doctor says, his mouth pulled into a relaxed smile. “Come on, sit down and let me look at your foot.”

Yuuri does, shutting his mouth with a quick snap and remaining as still as rock while Doctor Nikiforov gets down on one knee and removes Yuuri’s blue sock with careful fingers.

“It’s quite swollen and bruised, but it doesn’t look like anything is broken.” The doctor moves his foot to the left first and then to the right, pausing when Yuuri gasps. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“A bit,” Yuuri confesses.

The doctor hums and gets up on his feet. “Stay there,” he asks as he reaches behind his desk and pulls his computer’s screen up. In a few seconds, he’s got Yuuri’s X-Ray results pulled up for both of them to see. “Yes, it’s just like I thought. Nothing’s broken, just painfully bruised!”

And then the doctor turns around and winks — _winks!_ — at Yuuri and gives him a huge thumbs up and that thought of Yuuri going speechless because his doctor is the most gorgeous person in the universe? Yeah, that’s made a definite comeback. 

“That’s good,” Yuuri’s replies in a strangled voice, sighing in relief. He’s got a competition in a month’s time that he can’t miss.

“You’ll need to rest for two full weeks, which means no sports or straining activities. Get one of those spandex socks if you don’t have one already and wear it for the first four days, during the night and day, and after that just during the day. You’ll also need to ice your ankle every few hours during these first days and take some anti-inflammatory pills.” Victor scribbles all his down on a loose paper on his desk. “Let’s go do your CT scan now. Has your nose stopped bleeding?” 

Yuuri pulls the tissues away from his face long enough to brush a finger beneath his nose, noticing it comes out clean. “I think so.”

The doctor looks him over for a second, then reaches into the tissue box, grabs a bunch and wets them on the sink before coming over and wiping them against Yuuri’s face.

“Doctor Nikiforov!” Yuuri shouts, speaks, _says_ at a regular noise level, not at all sounding like he’s about to spontaneously combust.

“Oh please, call me Victor. Doctor Victor, if you must. I’m not that much older than you and my last name just sounds too formal, don’t you think?”

Yuuri’s quite sure he’s lost the proper brain capacity to think, at this point, possibly because he has a concussion, possibly because he’s just that much of a walking disaster.

“Victor, yes,” Yuuri pauses, looking away from the intensity of Victor’s gaze, which seems to be boring holes into him. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Victor replies with this grin that can only be described as adorable and then he grabs Yuuri by the elbow as he leads him to the exit and _he doesn’t let go_ .

Yuuri’s passed out. He must have passed out back when he hit his head and this all a dream, a fantasy. This man is actually the embodiment of all of Yuuri’s shallow _er_ dreams and in reality, Yuuri’s still back at the rink, lying on the ice and likely bleeding everywhere. 

“So, how did you sprain your ankle?” his doctor asks as they walk to the CT scan. His hand is like an iron brand on Yuuri’s elbow, the heat seeping through his clothes and seeping into his skin.

“I fell while I was ice skating.”

“Ice skating? At this time of night?” Victor asks, giving him the same curious look as the nurse from before. Normally, this would be the moment where Yuuri’s embarrassment overwhelmed him and he’d shut up, but he finds himself speaking before he even realises what he’s doing. 

“I do that sometimes. I skate, professionally, or at least semi-professionally. I haven’t gotten to any of the big tournaments yet, but I’m hoping to qualify for the Grand Prix next year. I’m also at university right now, finishing a degree in Geography, and exams are coming up as well as the end of the tournament season, and I’m feeling kind of stressed. Or, well, super stressed, actually. So I went to the ice rink to clear my mind because it’s what I always do. Skating helps me calm down and the owner doesn’t mind me going as long as I lock up after I’ve left.”

Victor stops walking after Yuuri’s finished his rant and Yuuri can’t do anything but stare at his own hands, clenched tightly around one another in front of his chest. “So you were all by yourself when you fell?” Victor asks. His voice has dropped into a whisper, so quiet Yuuri almost doesn’t hear him over the blur of hospital noise surrounding them.

“Yes,” he replies. He whispers, too, although he’s not quite sure why. Maybe just because Victor did it first.

“Such a shame,” Victor murmurs, his free hand stroking the back of Yuuri’s before he starts walking again. “I’m sure you’re a great skater, Yuuri. I used to skate too when I was kid. I want to make it pro, but never did.”

Yuuri is not one to pry, but he’s sure Victor wouldn’t have said anything if he wasn’t okay with talking about this.

“What happened?”

“I fell, like you. Only, unlike you, my fall was bad enough that it tore through the muscles in my right ankle. Doctors said I was unlikely to make a full recovery and I never did.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Victor says and he means every word. Although Victor’s tone is nonchalant, he can hear the pain behind his words, the faraway longing. Yuuri has no idea what he would do if the same happened to him. Skating is his life, even if he doesn’t have much a career to speak of.

“It’s fine, don’t worry your pretty head about it. Some dreams just aren’t meant to be and in the end, things turned out well for me. I spent so long going through physical therapy that it made me decide to become a doctor and here I am now,” Victor tells him, his smile not reaching his eyes.

In an impulse move, Yuuri pulls his arm free and moves it so that he and Victor are now locking arms. “It still sucks, though, that you didn’t get to become a professional skater.” Yuuri takes in a large breath. “I would have loved to skate with you. I’m sure you’re great,” he says, flooded with courage and hormones for a single dizzying second.

Victor’s eyebrows fly up his forehead and he twists his head to the side like a confused puppy, unsure of what he’s seeing for a moment. Yuuri’s about to regret his actions when a huge smile breaks across Victor’s face and the other man laughs.

“Thank you, Yuuri. Maybe I’ll stop by your rink one of these days and you can help me get back on the ice. Simple stuff is fine, my ankle is almost fully healed by now.”

“Please do! That would be great, really. Just. Yes. You should definitely come,” Yuuri stutters out, making Victor laugh again.

“You’re adorable,” he says and because he must have been a terrible person in his previous life, the universe decides to punish him by giving him another nosebleed just as all the blood in Yuuri’s body rushes to his cheeks for the twelve-hundredth time that day. Seriously, it’s a wonder the rest of his body even gets proper circulation after all this. 

“Dammit, I don’t have any tissues on me,” Victor complains and then he reaches up and wipes at Yuuri’s nose with his _coat sleeve_ .

Yuuri closes his eyes. This is it. This is how he dies. He doesn’t deserve to spend a second longer on Earth, not after the most amazing doctor in existence has done nothing but be kind to him and all Yuuri’s done in retribution is _bleed_ on him. 

“You’re fine now, I think,” Victor says as he pulls his arm away. Yuuri stares at the previously white sleeve of his lab coat and immediately stutters out an apology.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god, I can’t believe I bled on you—“

“Yuuri,” Victor says, flicking Yuuri on the nose to stop him from talking. “I’m a doctor. A surgical resident, in fact. You’re far from the first person to bleed on me.”

“Oh,” is Yuuri’s smart reply.

“Now, let’s please get you that CT scan. I’m starting to worry you might have bumped your head harder than it seems.”

“Maybe,” Yuuri replies, although he’s sure had his doctor been anyone else, he’d never have bled like this. 

They bump into Nurse Giacometti just as they’re about to enter the CT scan room.

“Oh? You again, darling?” the nurse asks, looking Yuuri up and down.

Victor’s arm stiffens almost imperceptibly next to Yuuri’s. “He needs a CT scan.”

The nurse moves his gaze from Yuuri to Victor. “Will you be taking care of that, Doctor, or do you need my help?”

“I can handle it, thank you,” and then Victor’s pulling them forward again.

Victor settles him on the stretcher, patting Yuuri’s chest and arranging his head so that it’s in the right position. His hands move like silk, smoothing through Yuuri’s hair just once before he pulls away.

When the scan is done, he calls Yuuri into the room next door. Yuuri’s not sure if this is protocol, but he follows the sound of his noise anyway so that he can look at a black and grey image of what he’s told to be his skull.

“See this area right here,” Victor says, pointing at some lumpy part of Yuuri’s brain. The rest of his explanation flows like water through Yuuri’s ears, words streaming in and out as white noise. Yuuri only starts paying attention by the end, when Victor’s cut the technical jargon. “Basically, you got a nasty bump, but nothing to worry about. I was already going to prescribe you some painkillers for your ankle, so this shouldn’t change anything.

“Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri says, flashing his doctor a tired grin.

“Let’s get back to my office so I can give you the prescriptions and then you can get out of here in no time,” Victor says. Yuuri nods. He’s beyond exhausted now that all the adrenaline has worn off. He’s hoping Phichit is somewhere in the waiting room, otherwise Yuuri’s going to fall asleep the second he gets in a taxi and risk getting mugged.

Still, despite being in desperate need of a good night’s rest, Yuuri can’t help but wish he could stay here by Victor’s side for a little while longer.

Victor writes him his prescriptions while Yuuri struggles to keep his eyes open and listen to all the medical advice coming out of Victor’s mouth. Something about eating properly and treating his body right, Yuuri’s not sure, all he sees is Victor’s mouth moving, the soft curve of his lips and the hint of his smile. 

Even though Yuuri is capable of walking — limping, more like, but deep down that’s semantics — on his own, Victor still guides him to the door of his office with his hand back on Yuuri’s elbow. “Be careful now and remember what I told you, no sports for two weeks.” He frowns then as he pauses for thought, biting his bottom lip for a fraction of a second and Yuuri swears he’s going to shove his head into a hole forever if he gets another nosebleed. “I hope this doesn’t make you miss any competitions.”

“It’s fine, I only have something next month. I’m sure I’ll be fine by then,” he says and Victor smiles as he relaxes.

“That’s great then.” Victor pauses again, staring at Yuuri’s face for an everlasting second and making Yuuri rub his mouth self-consciously. Maybe he still has blood on his face? “You’re fine,” Victor tells him, making him relax. “I’ll see you later, Katsuki Yuuri.”

“Y-yes, thank you so much, Doctor. I mean Victor. I mean Doctor Victor. Thank you, for everything.” Yuuri’s a mess, an absolute mess, but it’s hard to think straight when you’re bone deep tired, nursing a head and ankle injury and Victor Nikiforov is staring at you with warm, curious eyes.

“Goodbye, Yuuri,” his doctor says and then does something totally unexpected by leaning down and hugging Yuuri. 

Yuuri doesn’t even think before he hugs him back.

It seems a bit unprofessional to just hug a patient in the middle of a hallway, but Yuuri is far from complaining. He makes his way back to the waiting area in a bit of a daze, lightheaded and fuzzy all around and he only remembers he never told Victor where his ice rink is after he’s finally left.

“Shit,” he whispers, moving to turn back when someone shouting grabs his attention.

“Yuuri! Yuuri, are you okay? I was so worried! How’s your ankle? Are you— are you _bleeding_?”

“It’s just a tiny nosebleed. But listen, Phichit, I need to go back—“

“Why? What’s happened?” Phichit pulls out Yuuri’s prescription from his hands before Yuuri has time to elaborate. “We only have about half these pills at home. Have you called coach yet? I wanted to but I didn’t because I didn’t know if you were okay.”

“I’ll be back on skates in two weeks,” Yuuri reassures him, glancing back at the entrance to the emergency area every few seconds. He needs to go back before Victor gets another patient or otherwise that conversation is going to be too awkward to bear.

“Yuuri,” Phichit’s voice brings him out of his reverie, “why is there a phone number written in your medical prescription?”

“What?” Yuuri takes the paper back, looks down and sees that _yupe_ , there it is. Victor’s phone number written down in blue ink. There’s not even a doubt that it’s his phone number because Victor wrote his name next to it, with a little heart on top of the ‘i’.

“Yuuri! Your nose is bleeding! Are you okay?” 

And Yuuri is fine, honestly, he’s the best he’s ever been.

 

  
 

([x](http://humanthyla.tumblr.com/post/155403241529/yuuri-phichits-voice-brings-him-out-of-his))

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the [G Master](https://twitter.com/reesefinchs) for being my lovely beta reader!
> 
> Comments are v appreciated and beloved. Also, you can come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/humanthyla) / [tumblr](http://humanthyla.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!
> 
>  
> 
> also ok small **headcanon time** but afterwards Victor does visit him at practice and immediately decided that you know what? he should be yuuri's personal doctor, which is really just an excuse to hang around yuuri all the time and literally everyone but yuuri notices this and anyway victor starts coming to practice and then to competitions.
> 
> he's always supporting yuuri and he's loud. like, he's _really loud_. he has multiple t-shirts with yuuri's face and motivation quotes like "Go Yuuri!! You're the best!" and when people ask who he is he just replies "I'm his trophy husband" and smiles and it’s almost certain now that yuuri’s going to die at some point because of all his nosebleeds but hey! he’s lived a good one and if there’s one right way to die it’s with victor nikiforov smiling at him.


End file.
